journal 02. transition

I am in a huge state of transition - huge.

I can not, on most days, even figure out how to get through my day let alone figure out a 5, 10, 20-year plan. My goals are ultra simple right now, consisting only of the very-next-best-step, and that’s truly it. The idea of 24-hours at a time used to absolutely creep me out, I mean who fucking gets life done at a 24-hour-at-a-time pace? Seemed insane to me. But the more time in sobriety I get, the more solid that way of life becomes for me and in fact, it’s really become my main staple in terms of my self-care.

It’s really crazy where my life is at right now, it’s been such an enormous past 2 years. 651 days ago I got sober and I honestly thought that this journey would be a simple 'quit drinking wine on the weekend' journey - oh my good god, was I ever wrong. There is no way to emphasize enough how much changed; everything.

Nothing is the same.


All of it.

Every piece, all the morsels, every cell, every outlook, belief system, relationship - all different.

Where I am today, what I think, who I am surrounded by, what my life looks like, is not in 10 billion years what I thought it would be, and the craziest thing is that… it’s better than I could have ever imagined it to be. And yet, with it has come a strange and unfamiliar space of growth that I am trying to figure out how to navigate.

Life caught on fire - grief took me in chewed me up and spit me out - and as the fire has subsided, and the ripe nourishing ash has given way for new life to sprout, I have found that I am not in any way the same human as I was before the fire. I am totally different. I grew, and I also outgrew my old life, my old way of being, my old offerings, beliefs, and relationship to the world I live in.

It’s a good thing, like a really good thing, but it’s also totally bizarre.

I’m not sure what I am doing.

I’m not sure where life has me going.

I don’t know what to focus on - especially with my work, I don’t know what courses I want to offer, or what to say in a newsletter. I don’t know how long I will run the telecourse I have worked so hard to build, or perhaps I will end up growing it even more… I just don’t know these things right now. I can’t figure out a 5-year plan; I can’t vision board this, or try to manifest it in my mind's eye; I simply don’t know what life is asking of me - I don’t.

And for me, nothing could be more uncomfortable.

Slowing down is fucking hard for me.

Not knowing the plan is pure torture.

I want the plan, and when I don’t get the thing I want, I usually panic.

But right now I can feel all the way down to my very core, that my job is simple: it’s a day at a time. That’s it. I don't get to know the plan, I don't get to move fast. Life has forced me into a place of surrender. I have to pull back from the world as I centre myself, this is a deep time of transition, and everything I have ever learned about self-care is key in these odd, and beautiful, and confusing days. The big picture is not important for me right now, all that is important is that I focus intently on doing what's best for my soul one breath at a time.

That's it: one breath and then the next; one foot in front of the other; nothing bigger, nothing more complex, just simple, slow, soft.

Faith is my guiding force right now, all that I need to do is breathe and take care of what’s right in front of me - which, for now, looks like slowing the fuck down - ugh ‘slowing down’, my damn nemesis, my greatest teacher. Maybe life is so much more simple than I ever thought it to be, maybe it’s not about becoming something big, maybe it's about learning to lean into the slow spaces, learning to cultivate the simple appreciation for the very moment at hand. Maybe it’s not about being big, and bold, and stubborn on the pursuit of ‘self-made’, and fierce independence. Maybe it’s more about togetherness, humility, and the grace of surrender.

I think today my plan is this: run the harbour, work my 12 steps, water my garden of love.

That’s it.

Only Love,